He went on, however, in his jovial tone—
“The General will be here directly.”
And, indeed, the General’s entrance followed like an echo to the words, and the breakfast began.
Francis was silent and preoccupied—yet she gave me a look as if she regretted her want of confidence in me—making all sorts of mistakes. The General’s tea was sweetened twice over, and the Captain found he had no sugar in his, a defect which he remedied as furtively as possible, whispering to me—
“Our Major’s got out on the wrong side of the bed this morning. We must take care, or the orders of the day will be severe. She——”
“But Francis! What’s the matter with you today; the eggs are too hard,” growled the General.
“What a pity, just when we have a visitor,” sighed the Captain; “otherwise they are boiled to perfection.”
“By the way, Leopold, what hour is your carriage ordered for?” interposed the General.
“Well, uncle, I left it to the Captain,” was my reply.
As we spoke a carriage drove up, and Francis rose from the table to look out of the window.